07/12/2025
We wanted to share a poem recently sent to us, from the next of kin of a service user we support, currently living with dementia.
This honest, moving reflection on love, loss, and eight years “at the end of the bed” is truly captivating.
To anyone walking this path, remember, you’re not alone. 🤝🫶
✨✨✨✨✨
It’s Eight years now, at the end of the bed
At times a silent scream and a quiet desperation in my head.
But the love in my heart, and love in my head
Makes it time well spent, at the end of the bed.
There are days Mum won’t know me, or remember my name
Days can be endless, and mostly the same.
She’s lost in an age, an age gone by
When her parents were here, under the bright blue sky.
I love you so much Mum, I’ve always said
But I’ve laughed and I’ve cried, at the end of the bed.
Alzheimer’s dementia, words we all fear
The Mother that you are, is the reason I’m here.
We’ve talked and talked, there’s nothing unsaid
Through Winter’s and Summer’s, at the end of the bed.
It’s cruel and insidious, and will cut you like a knife
Kindness care and smiles, have always been your life.
My heart is sliced open, by a thousand cuts
You got through one door, whilst another door shuts.
We will look back at life, at the times we all had
And in all life's times, would be wonderful and sad.
To my brother and me, you are our Queen
Because someone like you, is not often seen.
A smile and a hug, the right thing to say
You made our castle down here, down here this way.
It’s laughter worry love, and don't forget fear
But it does not matter, as long as you’re here.
There is no regrets, and no why me,
Just happy and content, with a nice cup of tea.
I aspire to have your heart, and your dignity
To be the type of man, you wanted me to be.
We’re here now together, you the boys and me
Now I’ve become your eyes, and I tell you what I see.
I see you now, as I see you then I said
As the clock ticks its time .... at the end of the bed 🕰 - Written by L Adlard.
💜
